Monday, December 03, 2007

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

with the rise in rental prices, gentrification, venue closure, incoming straights, violence, is this yet another sign is this another sign of the impending doom for the surry hills community... It wasnt so long i had a chat with a friend about the quickly build & poorly constructed apartments around the place...

Estract from Building Collapse threatfrom the SMH WebsiteEdmund TadrosNovember 28, 2007 - 7:38AM"The owners of Indian Chilli restaurant noticed cracks in their wall early this morning and alerted emergency services, a police spokesman said.

It is understood construction work was underway at midnight when workers heard a cracking noise. A section of the restaurant building at the rear collapsed.

The restaurant is leaning towards the building site next door of the new Surry Hills Community Centre, which is under construction and has had its foundations laid.

About a dozen shops next to the restaurant will be closed until a structural assessment is completed."

Friday, November 23, 2007

Monday, November 05, 2007

pan is at work within sleep. his forge of dreams meld the passions to the actions. such furious work causes sweat to break. he stands with a sweet wet face with eyes so deep. works with strong hands as the threat of morning comes to swift. and with works half done i awake. interrupted dreams. severed desires. the world without pan bares such a harsh reality.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

Friday, November 02, 2007

at page 263 of Naomi Klein's "the Shock Doctorine" i cant help but feeling bewildered at the depth and scope of the book. its a bit of an emotional read (as is stories of capitalist exploits usually are) but it really is an a book-for-the-times, as they say.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

do you ever wonder why it is that we find particular things attractive? i for instance have a particular affliction for cute noses. i never did quite understand it myself, i just know that i like it. there are other things too. the broad of the back, a light flickering of freckles, nice legs, even an intense expression.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

I had this dream last night where my mum had come back from the hospital and she was ok. She was younger, and i was younger - like a scene from out past. For that moment in the dream i got a chance to hug her again and tell her that i loved her and that i missed her and that i didn't want her to go again. then i woke up at about 3am.

Freud said dreams were wish fulfillments. And perhaps i wanted my wish to be fulfilled. I knew it was a dream when i woke but i toyed with the idea for a bit, as if it really could happen. Could... Could Not... Would Not... I toyed with the idea but i had no hope for it eventuating. I laid there and just cried for a bit... then drifted back to sleep.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

i always get a little paranoid when i start a new place. Will i be capable? Will i come across well? Or with the think they hired a nut case? Luckily at this job i seem to be less anxious than i usually get. Is puppet becoming the epithet for a well adjusted person with anxieties under control - who knows?!

Its fun working here at carers NSW. Its in the city so all is near. Its 4 days a week - so i have more free time. Its a good career choice considering its going to help me with getting my registration as a pscyhologist. Yay :)

Friday, August 17, 2007

Thanks for those who kept up with the story im happy to have finished it. Im not quite sure if ive put enough in the ending to make it mean what I intend it to mean - but thats cool. On a reproduction into zine form i'll be sure to clean it up.

A friend asked me if i was Jonas. Well the answer is yes i am Jonas and no im not. I identify strongly with Jonas. Much of his experiences relate to mine. Positive and negative. But then again the other characters draw from me too. I am like Sebastian and Toby too, in ways. All that happened in the story was 'true' in one way or another. Positions were inverted, meanings differed but still the essence of the event was never corrupted. So even though im not quite Jonas, Jonas is still a poetic (re?)interpretation of my life.

Statement of practicethe story was based on a original two page draft that did not have an end. The task was to complete the work via a blog format. Each entry was written in one or two seating's maximum. After entries i would avoid reading over more than once so as to avoid excessive rewriting. This was to make sure i finished it but lead to lots of grammatical errors. Sorry!!

Each entry required a deal of self containment so as to provide entry consistency. I wanted to be true to Ugresics theory/philosophy that a good story teller is a seamstress by making sure that i stuck to the particular motifs within the earlier entries and sought some sort of symbolic resolve at the end. Only the metaphor/motif of the compass was introduced at the end to symbolise (hopefully) the new/redetermining. The idea was to follow Jonas & to delve into a more internal landscape of thoughts and emotions rather than direct conversations actions or events. I guess this was an existentialist exercise at its very core.

Resolveits been a long time since i last wrote 'fiction'. Ive enjoyed it - though i dont know if i'll do it any time soon again. And if i do i dont think it will be in blog format - i fear it may have confused and isolated readers. But all in all: Writing this story has made me a better person.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

'I'm going to miss you, but I'm sorry i have to go.' Jonas was sobbing by this point. He felt as if all he had said was an extended list of clićhes. He hoped that this was making sense. Sebastian looked pained. He saw the hurt he caused & the held back tears. Jonas couldn't help the situation. It had to be. They began to say their parting words. Things had come to an end. Sebastian stood up reaching into his pocket. He returned his hand to the table giving Jonas one last kiss. Jonas watched him leave. It was only as the door closed did he think to look down at the table. There lay a small little toy. A compass. A little tool for the safe return of those who travel by sea.

Wooden floor boards pressed into Jonas' belly. His face pressed flat on the floor. He looked through the open door and into the adjacent room with his slanted gaze. Every object he could see was now tilted to the side.

He remembered that first encounter. Bastian had held him so tightly. How he had longed to be held tighter. And why was that? he asked himself now. He thought about it again. He had been afraid. Been afraid that he would leave, afraid that the love wouldn't be returned, but there was something else about it.

Feelings flickered into the past. Jonas pulled his eyes tight and tuned to his side. His body contorted as he replicated his movements. Hand pulled across his chest as if to remember Bastian's grip. The pleasure, the pain, the violence. And then, just for a single moment, he had been pulled into Bastian. Jonas had disappeared. Given up completely to him. The sensation was enjoyed as much as it was feared. For he was in love and he loved it. And yet this love threatened his very existence. All these feelings while pressed so close to another was so completely different to all he had ever known. Yet he could not through them away. yet he could not completely accept them.

Salty liquid squeezed from his eyes. Were these tears of love or moruning? The weight of the present met with the weight of the past. He remembered that little boy who had such fear that he promised himself to never-ever be near anyone again as he hid in his closet. here was now that little boy who once again receded into a closet only to then realise that what surrounded him was the arms of a lover. And how he had enjoyed the moment even as he feared it. It meant the end of what he had been until now.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

A boy lies to himself because the image of a loved one clutching the stuffed bear given by an ex 'just means too much'. A boy hugs a stuffed teddy bear and falls asleep, in this object he finds the false sense of attention that is he soo dearly needs.

The advent of love was unexpected, so much so that he does not understand it. He yearns it, and yet fears it. These feelings from the depths of his heart. It penetrates through all he is and it confounds all he knows. It threatens his very soul.

Monday, August 06, 2007

There are those moments when we walk next to someone, down some city street that we come to make sense. We may say something revealing, deep and honest. Other times it is when we drink our beers in the bar, when we make eye contact at a distance with some stranger do we reveal something true. An exemplar for this moment moment would be when we say things while shrouded in darkness. Imagine lying next to our lover at night. Bodies are naked & yet hidden by the lack of light. We say things to each other that we would not otherwise say.

Only when we are not quite in the moment are we able to access our souls. This is paradoxical. It posits that we are 'true' to ourselves only at the moment that we are not completely within the moment. How can it be that we are true to ourselves when we have distanced our 'self' from 'our self'?

The paradox is only resolved through the realisation that truth finds its counterbalance in history. Truth is in our memories. The truth has always receded into the past prior its welcome into the present. The truth is never quite present, but also never quite past.

We find the fragments of the past scattered on the floor. In order to receive the past in the present our task is to pick up these pieces and put them together to make some picture. With strips of scotch tape and PVA glue we stick together our memories. Things without connection become firmly pressed into each other. We mould random events and small little gifts into something more. What we are left with is something between an artists master piece & a child's finger painting. It is the image of our past. Framed and mounted on a fridge in the house of our minds. It has all the romance of Michelangelo's David and all the smudges of an art school sketch.

For Jonas, as us all, history is always written in the present. But the present is a condition of history. Thus history is always in contest. What the past meant is always merely a tenuous allegiance of circumstance & event. Whether we hold our art sacred & kept to precious, or whether we tear it up & start over again is a direct reflection of the allegiance. Jonas withdrew from that kiss. There was a smudge on the canvas. Something glued to the picture that should not be there. It was as if the lights had turned out while he was at work. Darkness.

He could hear a faint voice whispering in his ear. It whispered all the fear, all the love, all the different interpretations that could be - all whispering because the truth is said in whispers. And they are said in the darkness of night. All voices speaking from the past to rupture the present. Jonas receded into memories - into his heart. It is always within half receded moments do we reach the truth, and so now too would Jonas find his.

Monday, July 23, 2007

this zine thing is nearly finished! hope people have liked it :)new job starting shortly!!seems i'll be getting my psych registry out of it too yay!Jorja is back from the UK :)i seem to have misplaced my ring which has made me sadi've been getting better at dancing which has made me happyi lost kitten, im very indifferent to itmy mental health is the best its been over these past difficult 5 monthsstill worried about bunny situation, but it'll sort itself out.Brog's, Zeppo & the twins are all having birthdays - i'm soo broke!best of all Spunkrat, my ex #1 made contact with me - were friends on Facebook now, apparently hes in Krakow in Poland for the moment.

Friday, July 20, 2007

'We are discontinuous beings, individuals who perish in isolation in the mist of an incomprehensible adventure, but we yearn for our lost continuity. We find the state of affairs that binds us to our random and ephemeral individuality hard to bear. Along with our tormenting desire that this evanescent thing should last, there stands our obsession with a primal continuity linking us with everything that is.'- Georges Bataille, Erotism

'When Paddington eventually came downstairs again his forehead looked suspiciously damp and there were several pillow feathers sticking to his fur. He had reached a particularly interesting section of his book called TACKLES - AND HOW TO DO THEM, and for the remainder of that day the Browns gave him a wide berth, especially as he kept casting thoughtful glances at their ankles whenever they went past.'- Michael Bond, Paddington on Top

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Poor Jonas, caught up in a world of his own device. Poor, poor Jonas trapped deep within the belly of the great beast.

He is trapped in his whale, a cage of flesh and blubber. The whale that both protects him from the harsh sea and condemns him to the darkness. A whale that protects from the darker side of realized emotions. A whale that condemns to the suffocating hug of contemplation and rationalization.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Many thoughts in so few moments. It was already late in the afternoon and Jonas was still in bed.

'the night was good... it was a good night' Repetitions of the same thought. 'I just didn't feel comfortable thats all... the smoke machines and the lights... the pill was smacky and...' Revisit the moment. Uncover the details. '... it just didn't feel right' Answers that aren't explanations of any sort.

'There was Bastian dancing with his friends... Me with Toby just sitting, and my head resting on his lap. Riding out the rougher part of the E... And Bastian, his body divyed up by the green lights around him. He danced with his friends. With my side ways gaze i could make out his Cheshire smile and his sweating torso. He looked soooo nice.

'And then he walked over... and then we chatted briefly... too tired i was, to up was he... differing places, right time, or maybe the other way around, either way separate ways for us it would be. He leaned in to kiss... and... I just felt so...' Frowning thoughts.

'He looked at me kinda hurt, kinda stunned. But... i just couldn't kiss him there. I just couldn't kiss him then....

...maybe i was smacked out, maybe i was just tired and didnt quite realise what i was doing, i was tired, and its not like i dont love him, i swear i do, and he holds me and i feel so good, but i dont know, the way he danced with his friends, they're such a different world to me... and why didnt he dance with me when i asked, i dont know why, where does my world with him begin and end? what expectations are valid for the ones we love? who decides, not me thats for sure!' a coughing... 'and then i hurt him i think, and i know i didnt mean it, but i dont even know what i meant, what a fucking silly fucking stupid moment, it was nothing, an accident i hope, a glitch, maybe it was just an e induced dream i'll wake up from if i go back to sleep'

Jonas final thought before he fell to sleep what that night where Bastian hugged him so tightly. He remembered the blood, and for a moment even believed he could imagine its copery taste.

Monday, July 09, 2007

There was a line of thought that marked the mind of Sebastian. It was a line to the truth. Or perhaps rather the problem of truth. If one follows this line 'to ' the truth, one inevitably finds that the line has no end. If the line has no end, then there is no truth. But if there is no truth then to where does the line point. It is knowledge - philosophy, science, fact and experiment which measures out this line. A quest for truth that is a profound paradox.

The problem of the truth lead Sebastian to the worlds of fact and science. Unlike religion, unlike faith science could explain and not simply promise. He began a search for the truth, all for the sake of truth. He would read his books on physics and geology, on Einstein and Feynman. But more than this 'strict science' kind of reading, he liked his books of facts. think books on how trains work, and deep readings on the rivers of the world. For all his cute 'ocker' ways he was a very smart man.

He took a silly little pride in him self for reading books that others would simply dismiss. For instance the 'history of salt' was one such exemplary title that could be placed on this list. The list itself would be as random as the images one would see when flicking between Animal Planet, National Geographic and the Discovery Channels on the telly. In a systematic 'bit of everything' kind of way.

A soul that is defined by the search for truth is not willing to settle on the truth of things of the natural world alone. As things are discovered, they turn their attention to those things undiscovered. Eventually they mays settle on the undiscoverable. Physicist found quantum theory. Freudians found the unconscious. Sebastian found Love. In his own idiosyncratic way.

What is the truth of love?

Is the truth in the word or the action? There is the old dictum that 'actions speak louder than words' that words lie, and that it is actions tell the truth. This is the voice of one of two types of people. The person who would speak this phrase is one who would hate words. Words can lie. It is only in action do we reach the truth.

This would not suffice for Sebastian. The dictum is paradoxical. It must fail itself in order to prove itself correct. Instead Sebastian grew to view things differently. It was words, knowledge that were the truth to action.

What is it worth if you have love but cannot say the words i love you? 'The actions would just be a lie' Sebastian hypothesised. 'whats it worth if you cant say it?' Sebastian saw the role of declaration to be bound to words alone. Right or wrong Sebastian grew to be a person who loved words. he was never afraid to say the words 'i love you'.

It is these same words that made Jonas' heart quiver with unease. He had heard the words before and had seen the way words can lie. Jonas had grown to hate words.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Sunday, July 01, 2007

When Jonas asked the question Bastian could not help but smile. 'It's such a natrual thing ain't it?' he began, 'but its so complex its hard to replicate' He spoke with his usual english, punctuated with slang. 'Its like a Krebs Cycle...' and so he began to explain, As he did in his usual round about way.

'The Krebs Cycle. Its what makes us breathe.. its what moves the oxygen in the air onto the red blood cells in our body & moves the CO2 out...' he frowns & starts again 'imagine it, a huge chain of chemical reations, each one relying on the others all moving in unison. One molecule carries a important oxygen molecule, but in order to move is out of the air & into our blood a whole bunch of other reactions need to take place. It all needs to happen in a certian sequence in order for that oxygen to be open to the opportunity to enter our blood.'

'love is like that Mr Jonas. Love is about a whole bunch of little interations going on that we are not concsious about. they move us to a point where we bond. We bond & we stick & we bring life to al that there is. As they say Hemoglobin in the key.'

Jonas smiled & so did Basitian. He had found some b eginings to the science of human connections.

'love evolves from a whole range of interactions, interactions that never know in themselves that they lead to happiness.' he pauses 'and unhappiness'

Saturday, June 30, 2007

Monday, June 25, 2007

His hand was on my chest. Once again we had made love. Once again we found ourselves together. His hand remained there as bodies relaxed. Slowly sinking into one another as we had done so beofre. 'I love you Bastian'. I finally muttered. Bastian found his reply in the form of a long & extended kiss. We lay there together for a little while. Finally he rolled onto his back. As he did so he let out a laugh. It lasted only as long as one breath. Why do ya call me Bastian, you know i prefer Seb?' He queried. I paused before i replied...

'Your name, your full name - Sebastian - its soo beautiful. I kinda admire it in a way...' I watched his expression change as i spoke. He could hear my truthful tone. '...well, calling you Seb, i dont really relate to that in the way your mates do... its a bit beyond me... its too 'ocker' and your very 'ocker' Sebastian - sometimes i dont always feel comfortable around you because of that.'

I paused. Bastian took the opportunity to respond. 'Aaawh... babe, whats the deal? Sometimes i see that you ain't exactly comfortable, but im not sure why and im not sure what i should do...' he looked at me confused 'im not that ocker... and your as Aussie as i am.'

Once again i paused. Sometimes all i can do is pause. I recuperate the moment and identify a line of action. I thought about myself. My mother was half Chinese, my father dutch. My features were scattered between to disparate continents and finally assembled on this island that is 'Australia'. I don't quite look asian... i have a bit of body hair that i cling too... I have lighter skin than most. But i also have darker eyes, am short, and my nose is more typically asian(...darn, 1/4 chance & dutch are typically tall!) I pass on occasion.... other times i fail.

I decided to avoid the trajectory Bastian had offered. It lead to no-where. 'I love your name, partly cause i hate my own.' There i said it! 'Jonas - you know the story from Sunday school, the one swallowed by the whale.' He nodded. "I've spent so much time running away from all that - all of my past. The past can be such an ugly thing...' Pause. and Pause some more. 'Your name, i know you dont like Sebastian, so i dont call you that... so i'll call you something cute instead. Something for me and you to share... is that ok?' He nods & he comes closer. He hugs me and i hug him back.

Friday, June 15, 2007

I sipped my coffee. Toby just sat there and grinned. I had made my little confession to him, with a few fumbled words. 'affectionate', 'really amazing'... 'just dont know... yeah'. His words seemed to come together easily. 'So so... it seems that my Jonas has found a man.' he said this with an inflection on the word 'my'. He was obviously happy for me, but also a little bit jealous. Most of all he was intrigued. Toby, my one time love, now my closet friend. He couldn't help but to ask questions. 'So how did you meet?' I blushed a bit 'in a bar, it was hardly romantic, more comic.' I said, beginning my account of night and a day and a night.

'It was a trashy night, to be serious - i cant remember half of it' Toby giggles, i continue. 'Anyways... i remember checking out this guy. We made eye contact. And talked briefly... anyways i lost him in the crowd... didnt worry too much about it. forgot it by the time sunday came about. So about half way through the day i get a text asking me who's Jonas? I was curious, so i replied... Here ill read the texts' i said making my way to the phone.

Bastian: So who's JonasJonas: that would be me. And whats your nameB: lol. SebastianJ: enjoy your night outB: yeah, got a bit trashy, till trying to figure out who you areJ: i had a mickey mouse top on, well for some of the night at leastB: lol cute, but no go, what elseJ: black hair, black eyes and a bit of fur on my face, mmm... so help me remember who you wereB: so you had fun too lol short red-ish hair here, lonsdale top on too, koi tattoo... me thinks im getting warmJ: mmm... im still a bit fuzzy...B: think we even shared a kissJ:lol hope it was goodB:yeah it was, you out tonight?

I bush 'well you can guess the rest.' Toby looks up and smiles a dastardly smile. 'All good romances walk a fine line between kitsch & beauty. Kitsch was the text messaging. He laughs a little & continues. 'The beauty is taking the chance to meet him & take a risk.' Toby smiles with his blue eyes, stands & hugs me. I him back & we continue out talking.

Monday, June 11, 2007

I tell him that i am alone. He immediately retorts 'you're not alone, I'm here for ya.' With those words i fall silent. He has acted in a way to reassure me, but he has only brought me more doubt. He doesn't know what i mean when i say i am alone, and thus he finds an incorrect answer in positing that his presence will fill a void of human connection. But of course thats not what i meant.

Thats the funny thing though, all human activity is marked with mistakes and mis-perceived notions. We act with good intentions, but intentions alone cannot forclose interpretation. Instead our actions become 'misguided' a understanding is infact misunderstood, and misunderstood twice! the first time by the confidant, the friendly listener. The second time by the seminal speaker, who cannot help but become bemused by an answer that is misguided.

I stay silent because i dont want to correct him, i dont want to explain what i mean by me being alone. It may lead to more misguided outcomes. He may try to save me, not realising that the iteration is the acceptance of the statement. Or worse still he may not try to save me - the acceptance of an essentially negative statement can commit the soul to the project... a good thing perhaps, but the soul never commits to this world. It is not of flesh. Another possibility creeps into my mind he may find my aloness (which is, incidentlly not 'lonelyness') to be sickening... he who has been in relationship after relationship. Isnt my statement to him beyond his comprehention, or are my thoughts mearly misguided? Agh... but how could he understand the merits (and faults) of being alone without having lived it...?

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

"it was sitting on an old leather suitcase marked WANTED ON VOYAGE, and as they drew near it stood up and politely raised its hat. "Good afternoon" it said. "May I help you?" "Thats very kind of you said Mr Brown, but as a matter of fact we were wondering if we could help you?"

- Michael Bond, A bear called Paddington

"I believe that truth has only one face: that of a violent contradiction."

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Bastian came home to find Jonas asleep in bed. Bastian smiled as he undressed. the boy had waited. He had made peace in his home. Jonas relaxed into the passing of time... a passing that so many people find to be an unbearable state. As he climbed into bed he noticed a red hat & blue coat held tightly in Jonas' hands. Ever so gently & ever so slowly he removed the bear. He then proceeded to fit his own hands around the body that meant so much to him. Jonas moved in response - still more asleep than awake, and together they found (half by chance & half by direction) a position that fitted them both. A sleepy embrace, a situation where bodies relaxed into the other.

--

This embrace - the embrace of Jonas and Sebastian would become the template for their relationship. For any relationship to work, we must be able to find our way to 'fit' into the other person, both literally and figuratively. For the person who jumps & clings to their lover while listening to the sounds of their chest has a different love to the one who likes always to keep their partner at such a distance that they may always see their face. Sebastian & Jonas held themselves in a way similar to they had done that first night... in that first embrace. Only not so tightly as to wake him. Sebastian held Jonas, and Jonas tilted his head back to find his Bastian hear him... only this time the embrace was more mutual, more relaxed.

--

Bastian fell asleep shortly after falling into bed. He was exhausted from work & more so from the desire to be else where. In fact Bastian felt he would have felt asleep much sooner had it not been for Jonas. Not Jonas as such, rather Bastian had been semi startled by the way Jonas had clutched the bear. Had Jonas held this bear as a kind of substitute for him? A kind of keepsake before he arrived? It was a possibility... even if only unconsciously. Perhaps there was no reason to it other than boredom itself... Jonas had spent about 10 hours alone here... Jonas, this not-so-long-ago-stranger-to-my-life! Bastian quickly realised he was making much out of nothing... stil, he wondered why... the red hatted bear... what did it mean to him? Nothing much. It was a present from an ex-lover. the lover had been to London & saw it fitting to bring it back. 'A bear for a bear' he said. He wondered weather Jonas had thought it meant more than it did to him? the thought sickened him. But perhaps the sickness was from else where. The way Jonas clutched Paddington had reminded him of the embrace he had made the night before. The idea that artifice could so easily replace him in the play of passion brought him unease. He clung Jonas again, in a similar way as previously. Only this time not so tightly, more relaxed.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

i about the about the apartment, picking things up & putting them back down. i move from object to object as each new item captures my gaze. It began with a framed picture. It caught my attention so much so that i was willing to get out of bed. He stood there smiling standing close to some other man. Possibly some past lover... possibly a friend. Next to it was Paddington bear, sitting quietly in the cuteness of his red hat and blue coat. I waited a second & moved on. Items both personal & impersonal were visited by my curious stare. cologne, an novelty match box car & an old news paper. Heat waves & bushfire's were the topic of the day. I continued my search from the bedroom to the lounge unsure what i was looking for. I settled on a book & opened it up at random. My eyes skim through a description of atoms, molecules, and chemical reactions. 'The whole group [of atoms] is "glued together', so to speak. On the other hand... if you try to squeeze two of them close together they repel.' explains Feynman. His words make me think of Bastian. The way he had squeezed me last night the way i had felt.

I wanted him to squeeze me tighter. It wasn't enough to be anything but broken. But why did i want this, why it not enough to simply be held? We had not known each other for that long, but we both felt a shared love. So many nights together in the last few months had pulled them together. But until they had met they had lived a world apart. If it was in the present that they could be joined them then so too could it be said that it was history that separated them. It was a history of past 'presents' that I did not figure in could not even imagine what they were. How could i even say that i love some one with out knowing someone so completely... But then again how can we know anyone completely? How can anyone be squeezed tightly enough. 'Its all just a silly little doubt' i told myself. But still... isn't it a truth that all relationships are met with challenges, with tests, and our past is one test amongst many. That picture, that other man... I was angry with my self for assuming that it was a lover first before considering the possibility of it being a friend. I looked down at the book again and in a cynical moment & wished that science would turn there attention to determining the a physics of human engagement. A science of love.

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Blood on my fingertips. All amidst sighs of pleasure & smells of delight. I can see now red as i draw my index and middle to my gaze. It’s a cherry red that stems downwards as if to find roots in my open palm. A pain grows in the middle of pleasure. Bastian is overcome with passion. He fucks me good & hard. He takes me so deeply that i disappear & it becomes all about him. I live in his presence and thus I am taken to the point where i am revealed to be meek and human. so frail & venerable. its as if i was cursed by a disease where the slightest touch would break my skin and allow to seep out my hearts blood - a profound bleeding that is the expression of love! Thumb & fingers press together for a final wet confirmation, and then they slide sickly apart.

Pain over rides pleasure but i continue with the act. I pull my hand to my thigh & wipe way the blood as he puts his arms around my chest. He holds me tightly, but i want him to hold me even tighter. I remember the blood as he cums. Each of us makes an offering to this beast who's name is lust. Gentle touches ease the passion as well as the pain.

Bastian nuzzles his face near my ear & gently whispers an apology of sorts '...i just get so carried away.... your smell.... touch... didn't mean to hurt ya' i half heartedly mutter a 'it's ok'. I do this not so much cause i doubt his guenuity, but rather because i know that this was my choice as much as it was his. We lie next to each other for just slightly more than an hour. Bastian delayed his necessary departure as long as could be. he dressed as i half slept & half dreamed... every so often i would delay the tiredness so as to look at him... and every so often he would pause from his task of getting dressed in order to look at me. As we look at each other we remember our pact of blood & cum. he fixes his collar & looks at me again with his soft blue eyes 'Jonas?' he calls to me 'i want you to be here when i get home' Its a demand as much as of a request. I of course respond in a yes... it is an answer that lives in the memory of blood.

"...In The Big Donor Show, which is set to air this Friday, a terminally ill cancer patient will select one of three patients to receive her kidneys. Viewers will watch testimonials from the three Dutch contestants, aged between 18 and 40, and send in text message advice to the donor to help her decide who should receive the lifesaving operation..."

My initial reaction was shock & disgust. But im not so sure now. i've taken a breather to reflect. We can definitely say that a kidney donor version of 'perfect match' is in bad taste. Adding a competitive element ot organ donation is hardly nice. But is it worthy of disgust & thus censorship?

The argument portrayed by the network that organ donation may increase. They had a point, this may make organ doaning amore popular. Even so it did little to abay my concerns. There are better ways of increasing organ donor levels. And of course the network is making a nice profit that i doubt will be donated to charity.

Havign said that though - should we side ourselves with the opposing force. The christian democrats that is. They speak about this show as "caus[ing] confusion and anxiety" amongst the public? Um... why would the public become confused by this show? and why anxious?

While we have sympathy for the act that some of the contestants will loose, they did choose to participate, even if the choice is loaded. its not a question if invading privacy or causing inconvenience. No one is getting 'hurt' by the show.

If we become anxious is it because often like to ignore that reality is often a lot worse than television? As the network executive says: '...we think the reality is even more shocking and tasteless: Waiting for an organ is just like playing the lottery'

Sometimes i think that our disgust/anxiety often conceals/hints at issues we are not always comfortable with. These are issues we like to ignore or simply brush aside.

Sometimes shows like this almost redeem themselves because they are controversial. They put the issue out there, when we would otherwise brush past it. How many times does red nose day start a discussion about organ donation? I do mean 'almost redeem's' though. Its still indifferent. Its still bad taste.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Hey all, so i've updated my blog a bit - finally put in some of the blog links that i check out... and now so can you. They're a extended family of sorts.

I'm also considering updating the banner, but i'm a bit stuck for inpiration. I could reference my tattoos, or possibly puppets. Maybe wolves. I like fairy tale chic. I dont know. When people think of me, what do they see?

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

he tells me that he talks in circles. 'more like palindromes' i think to myself. Palindromes: the angels sung, the devils repeated back(wards). My initial response is to interpret such a statement in the negative. To talk in circles is the error of 'petitio principii'. Circular logic - the answer begs the question. But he says it with an air of confidence that skews his meaning to make it a positive quality. Either that or a sarcastic smile.

Possibly then it is something else. Maybe it is my logic. The logic of departures & arrivals. The logic of the second world that no longer exists and perhaps never did. Perhaps it is the oddity that Ugresic calls dress making. It is the act of introducing all the pieces at the start & binding them through sewing to make the seamless dress that is writing.

I shrug the idea that he could have read this, or felt this of writing/ideas. Instead i think through the multiple patterns of meaning. I settle for 'full circle'. Maybe its the idea that circular denotes completion. Perhaps it is in fact that his arguments can end where they began that shows his ability to comprehend the depth that is all around us.

He continues to talk & i am over come with an amazing sense of affection. Im probably wrong with my thoughts, they are stil to raw. maybe he is the sophist that wishes to escape the errors of argument. Or maybe he argues with the idea that he could reach my soul, that something outside of thought - the revolutionary. It is the completion of the circle.

I enjoy the openness that allows me to think while he thinks. I wander his/mine/our thoughts. I make us a beautiful dress & I enjoy my incorrectness. He tells me that he talks in circles. I smile & pick myself up & place myself on his lap.

I draw my fingers around his sly smile. He is too perfect (even with his imperfection!!, i want to hate him for it, but i love it, i love it so much more than i thought i would. Me the perfectionist! - me who MUST read the book from start to finish. I like straight line, so what is this circle???). He tells me all i need to know. I want to be here with his circular smile.

Monday, May 14, 2007

how does one understand marriage? through the fantasies perpetrated by society who can only deal with an ending that is happy ever after? Or do we better understand it through its marginalised other? Through what stands in prefect diametric opposition to marriage, by this i mean - DIVORCE.

My reply would be that Divorce says much more about the truth of marriage than marriage does. To look at marriage is to look at a photo album of the memories that deserved to be saved - because they are pure. While to look at divorce is to sort through a garbage bin of what has been made & pushed aside. and as we know truth is truly a filthy subject.

The image above is from a firm of divorce lawyers advertising their firm to potential clients. It made the head lines when the sign was taken down by the disgruntled individuals who rented out the sign. the entire debate in the press did not surround the horror of people taking down a sign. Rather, it focused on whether the sign's message was in good or bad taste (Given America's love of the freedom of speech this should be considered quite odd.)

The australian press did not deal with it much, the SMH inserted a piece t hat was very open to interpretation - the violation of art vs the violence of the human body. The US press took a more interesting approach & sought to get the condemnation from lawyers themselves. Not just any lawyers though, divorce lawyers. And why not, the statement the poster makes is one that the divorce lawyers have loved to hate - it is a picture that represents their existence.

For those who did not follow the link for the above debate - well it focused on the way that the poster cheapened divorce. **** as divorce lawyers explained "Divorce is traumatic enough without this kind of [advertising]. We try and help people go through the divorce process with as much integrity as possible. A lot of my work is helping people grieve the loss of a divorce, and their own sense of betrayal. This makes divorce seem like it's not a big deal, and it's a huge deal for many people".

Well here's the catch - When the marriage lawyers against the sign say 'we help people get through divorce with integrity' they implicitly remind us that divorce destroys integrity, no matter what the reason, no matter who is the perpetrator, it is humiliating to admit that your life choice was wrong. The poster brings the humiliation [sic] to the fore front, it show it for what it is. Marriage is a limit, and not a heaven. It is a limit to who you are or who you sleep with (by traditional standards). Is that the body that i could have? Or maybe the body i could be? Its a limit that you now transgress through divorce. Oh, how you should be ashamed. And yet at the same time divorced people out number happy one timer couples. It is an anxiety that we relate to. Some fear it. Others challenge it.

This fear stems from our notions of marriage. Marriage has integrity, divorce does not. Marriage is the implicit "correct-choice" while divorce is the implicit "inncorrect-accident" and as we know accidents are not by choice.

Divorce is a disavowal of marriage. Marriage is interpreted as sacred. (as the lawyer in the linked article states). If it is sacred then the idea of making a mistake is already a problematic one. So then if a gay (take that as male for the moment)asks for gay marriage, then what does that mean?

The end of the sacred - gay marriage is not tradition, it is modern. gays are promiscuous, they are servants to the "inncorrect-accident". They highlight the inadequcacy of divorce, just as they do gender roles.

right wingers are able to use gay marriage as a tactic to win elections because gays are a symbolic fro may of the problems already inherent in marrage . That is 'straying' Not to say that all gays stray, or that denying gays marriage because they may stray is valid. It is worth only saying that marriage cannot tolerate straying & so gays who are precieved to be permiscuious & 'stray' are untolerable. (Of course leabians may be different... if they ever get media attention)

As Laura Kipnis said in Against Love (ps read this book!) "conservative think tanks like the Institute for American values issued what was billed as 'nonpartisan' reports suggesting an end to no-fault divorce, as a way of ' strengthening civil society' and 'improving the quality of marriage.' How preventing divorce would improve marriages and not just further the unhappiness of the unhappily married remained unspecified."*

****though one would think that what it actually does is point s out how divorce cheapens marriage. "life is short, dont wait till death do us part"

Saturday, May 12, 2007

The thought occurred to me the other day that the opposition to gay marriage can be imagined as a kind of revenge. This logical jump came to me as i sat in the Newtown & noticed that Pauline Pantsdown's old hit was playing, you know the one, with the infamous line '...im a back door man.' Obviously with Pauline's interview in the SX recently someone had decided a good reminisce was in order.

Pauline Pantsdown. A gay man dresses as a parodied Pauline Hanson. He samples her words & releases a song & gains popular support. Its a direct attack on her racist attitudes from an unlikely source. A gay (white) man. The gay community fights against the persecution of the Asian community.

Several years latter & there is a war on terror. Out of no where is a push to ban gay marriage - not that anyone was making any real effort to get it introduced. And of course the gay community fights against the ban. The right learned their lesson - be ware of people joining together. So how to you stop people joining together? Play on the pre-existing tensions.

Lets do a little role play & imagine some right wing think tank sussing the situation out:

"Well - the war on Iraq is going to generate opposition. Its not going to look good for the party. Worse still it may stop the war. Oil, money, international positioning... too important to back off. Well, what to do?! Well we know many of the middie's* are mainly Muslim. Bingo. The r-r-race card.' 'Wait' a colleague mutters 'that may not work, remember Pauline Hanson/Pantsdown? it could cause a back lash, how we going to manage that?'"Well..." he replies with a grin "Maybe this is some time for revenge on those lefties. Lets pull the pants over their heads these times. Muslims are fairly Conservative - if we pushed something like a gay marriage ban they'd support it. The lefties who'd want to be there all lovey-dovey in support would get a wake up call when they realise they're supporting the enemy. The gays wont like it, but hey, they're not a key constituency, besides we'll get heaps of pro-family support. Fantastic!

*i imagine they'd give a nick name to the grouping of people from the middle east.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Big room available in a terrace house in Enmore(near the theatre, so close to public transport etc)It goes for $150 p/w.The house is completely furnished...except for a toaster :-)The bedroom is unfurnished but has a balcony

You can move in from the 15th of May onwards.

You'd Be living with Puppet/Davey & Gary.We both work & we both gay & *cough* wogs.

Gary:"I'm a 23yr gay boy, who likes quite nights, and long walks...lol, no. I work 2 part time jobs, hang out with friends on my spare time, and get involved in random things. I like the occasional big nights, but not a party goer.

Puppet:"Im 25yo, and a bear (or maybe a wolf;). Im friendly & considerate with 7 years of share housing experience. I go out on weekends, but otherwise work 9-5 in the community/health sector. "

Would suit left leaning or relaxed or queer or friendly or a 'all of the above ' kind of a person.

We are friends, but we are friendly as well, so you won't feel left out. Well there it is; our lives on a platter. Get in touch if you know anyone!

Sunday, May 06, 2007

Thursday, May 03, 2007

I am in front of a dented door. My hand precariously on the handle. I whisper her name & hear a soft reply. i push open the door, and step in side. She explains to me the deal while smoking a cigarette. In the quiet i try to imagine the yelling & the tears, but sounds prefer to stay in the past. Between a drag & a breath she lifts her skirt to show me her thigh. Its bruised blue. I cant think of anything to do but give her a hug. Its short lived, it feels strangely dishonest. The only thing that satisfies both her & I is to listen to the diminuendo of an exhalation.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

He's hung his pants on the rungs of an old ladder that rests at an angle on the wall. There is an old crate - the wooden kind that acts as bench for a vinyl record playerThe records themselves are wedged between the make shift bench & wall. He has chosen to keep all his possessions in old vintage suit cases. His clothes & sheets in a large brown one with copper-ish clips. Other personal items sit above this one in a blue case. A third small one sits open, as decoration. Its filled with plastic flowers. They bloom with sunshine, so as long as the lid remains open.

I lie down in a pair of flannelet pj's, my chest is bare. I lay on his bed. I look across his 'room'. His room is made of old bits of wood, and other affects. The room comes complete with a window sitting opposite the bed & just behind a curtain that takes up the whole wall. If the curtain were drawn, i could look out through the window into a warehouse that is the home of this bizarre 'room'. A warehouse fantasy land of nostalgia & daydreams.

He goes to the record player & puts on a record. I smile at him. He smiles back.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Well, one of the greatest anime series - Evangelion is being remade. This time its being converted from original 26 episodes, into 4 movies. There will be a new character, a new 'machine' and a new ending. !!!! hopefully a slightly more cheerful ending than the last

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

"its just nice not to sleep alone sometimes" he tells me. I cant quite look him in the face, its a situation where the tones of truth tend to resonate in the soul.

---

He sits there & explains what happened last night. Between him & i. "After we fucked, well we just kinda passed out... I just kinda collapsed on your chest" he looks down a with a tinge of remorse. "well i woke up still lying on your chest, i could hear you breathing &... yeah... it was really lovely. I'm sorry i made you leave in the morning... i don't know..." I sit there still & remain silent. I don't want him to notice the perfect line that begins to form at my center. It cuts through me creating a perfect symmetry between my left & my right.

---

"She showed up at 10pm, drunk again" her chin is perpendicular to my face. Her hand twists a pen. "So i just politely refused to let her in..." a silence follows and the pen is clutched stiff.

Sunday, April 22, 2007

if you haven't watched 'perfect blue' then now would be the time to do so. Its hitchcock meets anime. A depressed pop idol recives death threats from a crazed fan when she decides to become an actress in a cheap sex & violence mini-series... (i've put the japanese trailer up cause the english one sucked.)

most importantly it if by the same director who is releasing the up and coming paprika!! (as much as i love spirited away etc - this is soo much better)

oh and for those who like'd requirem for a dream - compare this to the perfect blue trailer (Darren Aronofsky owns the hollywod remake rights to PB - if it ever happens)

well for the most part im back. i guess the worst of it is over. Those anxious tendencies of mine have died down. They leave their scars & move on. Its nice to know that Mr S was looking out for me, not that fearless me would admit i needed it!

I considered going back onto solain, but on research that can contribute to anxiety (not to mention that i didn't get any major delusions/hallucinations this time). Add to that my distrust of medication... not that i want to end up like mum... *sigh*

Sunday, April 15, 2007

I think. I think so many things. Options are explored. conclusions are deduced. Memories are under constant scrutiny. Details, obsessive attention to details. History is placed under revision. And with all that hustle in my head, i can only think of one thing to say 'i wish i had brought my jacket...'.

Its 7am on a Sunday. I walk up to get milk to go with my coffee. I've been up at least since 6. While it was hardly my fault to wake at such an early hour, i nag myself with the thought that i have still sinned, i should of stayed in bed... and on the lords day none the less.

I acknowledge that none of this may truly matter. Thought is not action. Still that does not deny the pivitol nature of the situation for me. Its an anxious state of being. Engulfed by the stream of conciousness. Compulsively thinking things apart, looking for some hidden meanings in the glyphs. Looking through the symbol to find the symbolic, when in fact there was never any meaning to begin with.

A excess of thought is a blessing & curse. My pharmakon of sorts. That elusive thing which is both poisson & cure. Its that cup of coffee that awaits me at home, now i have milk.

I temper the cure/curse by partaking in vice. 'Just a little coffee to clear my head' i tell myself. Little vices spark my life. I start to read alot (think Kundera & other random authors pullled down from the books on my shelf). I drink a little too much (think cask wine, by the cask). I go out late at night (think day club). Then i refuse to go out at all. I ride my bike (to botany to read Kundera under the trees by the beach, and back again).

Thank god i dont smoke anymore!

---------

These vices offer more than a intermission. Each begins a challenge to the anxious travel through a race. Zeno's paradox. A cunning trap. It forces a step. the intermission defines a distance, a unit, a duration. A kind of symbolic tripping up? Each new vice & vices repeated divide the anxiety's duration. A forfeit is given...

And i stop in the road. Milk in carton in hand. Its 7:05am. There is a blue wolf before me. It is smiles & sits & watches me. I pat it, consider taking it home, but deduce that someone most likely owns the well groomed beast. Its a symbolic event. It is not a true wolf, rather an Akita (just a wolf-ish dog). Neither is it blue, only blond. But of course in Croatian the word for blue & blond is the same (just a semantic slip). I begin to see behind the glyph. I wonder about it with half a smile & half a tear on my face...

Monday, April 09, 2007

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Grosz three authors at the fringes of philosophy, & reinserts them into the center. Darwin (more a scientist), Nietzsche (more a madman) & Bergson (more a French man) are never enough of the philosophies of their time. In doing so she creates a great benefit into challenging those little biases that define what is read & what is not; what is believed & what is dismissed. Grosz does what she does best - she gets into the heart of what these authors are saying, and finds something that can be related to, that is useful for now. She finds a concept of time that has use for politics, and a concept of evolution that is worth living up to.

While she spends all this time spent on avoiding the big names of philosophy (for those more unassuming or simply eccentric minds) she does surprisingly miss mentioning one name who may have said something on this topic. (And before i get to that name i can kind of understand the avoidance in a book about the not to big names). I grudgingly say - why not mention Mr Marx himself. In the world of philosophy he is the one labeled 'more a politician' than a philosopher. So in a book with m ore than a sutler political edge why not? Marx was German, & so was Nietzsche; Marx wanted to dedicate Das Capital to Darwin, but the offer was not well received; and of course Marx & Bergson found them selves strange bedfellows after both coming under attack by who else but Mr Wittgenstein.

Lets now be clear. Its not the evolution of capital (the social/economic system) that fits so perfectly into the book. But rather his notion of the development of consciousness that needs to be integrated into her work. If we can find time in evolution, time in history & time in duration, then surely we can find time in consciousness? And much like her book - it is the movement of time only know by the untimely that is important.

Marx presents class consciousness as the 'class for itself' as opposed to the class in itself' - isn't this another nick in time? a necessary cleavage, that allows the movement forward? But unlike the other movements consciousness preconceives the change that is to occur into the world. It makes the world of its mind - and the mind requires consciousness for this to happen. Consciousness is a mental system that had evolved itself through time, and generated the possibility for history. So i would like to see her take on Marx & his untimeliness - which it appears she does so briefly in the sequel :)

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

This artcicle found on todays 9msn explains that: 'Berlin Zoo has rallied to the defence of Knut, a three-month-old polar bear cub, rejecting demands that the animal be allowed to die after being abandoned by its mother.'

An animal rights activist explains that "Hand-rearing a polar bear is not appropriate and is a serious violation of animal rights[...] In fact, the cub should have been killed," It seems that animals are being humanised through contact with people, and this is a bad thing.

The animal rights activist says the humanisation of animals is wrong. At worst the arguement draws on the notion that animals are part of nature, and we as humans are not. We can only interfere with nature. We overide the intristic programing of life to reload our own ways for animals to follow.

At best he suggests that the nature of polar bears & humans are vastly different with no common meeting ground. In his view animals 'animalise' - thats normal. Humans 'humanise' thats normal. Anything in between is not normal, its un-natrual.

For the most part the arguement fails. The dog lovers, cat keepers, bird in park feeders & zoo keepers tend to believe that animals & humans mix. So why not polar bears? Whats more important? the survival of an animal with a little bit of humaisation or its death? Is humanisation so bad? Not really - it just means the animal would have to wear a cute little ribbon in its fur.

Of course its a different story for a child reared by wolves or other forest critters. While a pet is tolerated, & sometimes loved, a wolf boy is the subject of contraversy & is quite often intolerable. I guess there is a little animal rights activist in us all, but only when we want to see it our own way.Enter Gay Adoption.

This entire situation has some parrallels for issues around gays rearing children, and in particular adoption. To explain, indulge this personal anecdote. I once met a woman who told me she was agianst gay marriage. She explained to me that she was ok with gay people, and she didnt mind gay marriage so much either... But the idea that they should be allowed to raise a child seemed wrong. For her gay marrige was a step in the direction toward gay child rearing so she couldnt really support it either.

So its ok to be raised by straight parents & turn out gay, but not the other way around. Why? what would a gay parent do so different? Well the answer is gay parents would 'homosexualise' the child. We would raise the child & socialise them in some other way than the prefered & natural 'human' way.Is this a sugestion that homos are not quite human? or just that the way that they raise children is not quite the same?

Well thats one perspective, held by zoo keepers. What about the perspective of animal rights activists? would they dig gay parents? I'd assume yes - provided the child was gay too.

Monday, March 19, 2007

The recent edition of the gay pres come with a primer on the political opinions of the local polititians running in the state election. The SSO election survey, Has asked 7 questions to a range of candidates. The questions are easy. They beg to be answered positively, and for the most part they do, to varying degrees that is. After all would any politician responding a survey by the gay press respond with a flat out no? Hardly. Instead we are left with the half said, the unsaid, and the unmeant.

It is a situation of ensconce, in both senses of the word. Politicians structure their discourse so as to position themeselves safely, & also conceal themselves as need be. They opt against a clear position. To understand this situation is to make sense of individual resposes posed so coyly in in the press.

At first glance of the survey, we can see a pattern emerge. No one responds with a no. the majority of all answers begin with a Yes (in some form or another). Of the Non-Yes responses the most typical response given begins with the comment 'i believe...', or to a much lesser extent a question is asked or a fact is stated. This Non-Yes is a place where n o is not an option but nether is a yes, is the space where politicians need to ensconce themselves, they need a safe opinion, an opinion that hides from the word yes.

The one liberal surveyed ensconces himself 6 times. He can only answer yes to the question of supporting gay equality. Everything else ne needs to be unclear about. He is the all out winner for using this tactic, no surprises there.

Next up, is Labor. 3 of the 5 labor candidates are unable (or unwilling) to reply with a definitive positive statement to 3 of the questions. Questons 3, 4 & 6 are approached with a creased brow. Of the other 2 laborites only one sucmbs to answering with a yes-no yet again. it is to question 4. thus Q4 becomes the most contentious issue.

The Greens, Democrats & Independents have no problem with agreeing with the idea of equality for gays & lesbians what so ever. Yes all the way. No problem here, so lets go back to where the problem is - Q 3, 4, & 6.

In 3rd place is Q6, it relates to same sex unions. The laborites typically defer this question. for them this is an issue they support, but only in so far as it is to be discussed in caucus. Responsibility is deferred to caucus, individual ethical responsibility is rendered transparent. They do not condemn the internal workings of labor, or reiterate the simple dismissal offered by fellow members that it is 'not on the agenda'.

In second place is Q3 about legislation supporting parental rights for both IVF parents. Here we once again see a form of muffled support. There is an agreement to this point - but with in reason. Whos decides what one is reasonable? The answer is given - the community. The public opinion & possible legal issues must be taken into consideration. The question of course is why should the community have more say over the way in which a child is reared rather than the parent? And considering that the term community does not involve actual decision making from the community, but rather from those who represent them (ie the press & politicians) then is it too much of a jump to simply identify this as commitment to nothing but the political game amongst politicians?

In first place is Q4 the issue for gays & lesbians to adopt. This is an interesting one. Some are willing to state their support in 'principle'. But for all it seems there is a need to defer the issue until the review on the Adoption Act is complete. Interesting, first of all, candiates are candidly willing to say they support the gay community but dont want to commit until they get all the details. Gay and lesbian rights can wait. wait for what? what do they think the review into the adoption show? I'd assume not something positive, otherwise why wait? Possibly they are justified. After all those years of homosexuals being linked to pedophilia, S&M, corpophilia bestiality and masturbation - hey even id want to get a character check before i let my kids near them.

Of course they agree in principle. But principles can always wait. Have you ever heard the line 'yeah i like you, but im just a bit drunk, ok?' *nervous smile*

So what is the aim of the review of the Adoption Act? To make sure adoption:

* is characterised by openness, and is no longer shrouded in secrecy; * conforms with Australia’s international obligations; and * is brought into line with other areas of child law, as well as with prevailing community expectations and attitudes.

Considering there is little to say about homos in other areas of child law (to my knowledge, only issues about discusing sexuality etc for child carers would be the best i can come up with) Well im sure any reviews response would be based on community expectations and attitudes.

Considering that parties are not willing to take a part in influencing attitudes & expectations of the community, not willing to take a stand, other than in principle, one can hardly expect a positive outcome for the review. At best it will highlight the issue as being in contest. And thus make some stance toward a need for legislative advance... which once again places the issue unanswered.

A negative review can always be challenged, questioned, appropriated or ignored. But this kind of action requires more that something to be in principle. A principle must be attached to an action. The entire sentiment that a principle must wait for a review is a denial of the very principle guiding action itself. It is to ensconce the safety of the speaker. To speak from the safety of the arm chair, the ballot box or the opinion poll, without the formulation of true action is to say a yes & a no in one breath, as one voice in the utmost cynical of tones.

Friday, March 16, 2007

elizabeth grosz, or as i asume she would be affectionately be known as friends EG, has written a book called "the Nick of time"

1. the book focuses on the philosophy of darwin, Nietzsche, and Henri Bergson. She connects the ideas of these thinkers by suggesting they each deal with time in a similar, and complex way. She looks at their concepts of evolution, will, and duration, respectively. Each thinker finds a nick in time, a important delay to time, that is very much a part of time.

2. Sexual difference & desire will always expand. Species always become more complex, they never simplify. there will be more sexes, and genders & sexualities, never less. never reduced.

3. She ends the book with a discussion on politics the future. She is against ideals, against notions of goals to reach per se. these try to draw up a state future, one that condemns itself to death - one that needs no longer evolve. For her we dream the future & think the past in order to change the present alone. Once the present is changed, as it always does so, possibility finds new dimensions, and ideas reform. New memories emerge & others are forgotten.

4. The last two points supose that this is true because cultural & social systems are extensions of the same evolution that lead to the development of life itself. political arguements evolve in much the same way people or languages do.

its an interesting book - its got me thinking. I don t quite agree with all she has to say, but in the same instance i do think that she has hit the nail on the head. My thoughts should follow

Monday, March 12, 2007

wake up, pup, wake up. big day ahead. groan & mutter soft curses to the morning sun. im in a mood, im in a particular head space that is somewhere between meloncholy & anger.... and i do think that the anger is wining out.

i go to dance class, and do a reasonably good job consiidering i havent been for a month. my driving lesson is cancelled - but its ok, im not in the mood to travel to campbeltown. im edgy. i feel a bit at lost ends. i get home & i masturbate. second time today. Its also the second time i blow without an orgasm.... god i hate my sexuality some times...

grit & charge. i go out for a beer with a bear. i go out & i tell luke off for saying a nasty comment about me behind my back. I go out & i flirt with a increadably cute boy who sends me at loss for words. I go out, i fuck. I go out i dance. I go out and then i go home....

Saturday, March 10, 2007

here are some more pics from my holiday on the pacific sun. i enjoyed the sun & as well as getting to know mike better. i visited fiji, vanuatu and new caladonia. i quite loved the amazing beaches & the ocean in general. being on a cruise IS like a bogan RSL btw. but kinda worth doing once - its good to see as many amazing islands as possible. sun bake, snorkel, swim & relax.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Sunday, February 25, 2007

im back in sydney. the holiday is well & truly over. The contrast in time, in pace, is profound.

on the boat there was little point in keeping time. Days passed, not hours, and when they did there was little point in keeping track. each day was like the last, perhaps not in substance but rather in quality. there was relaxation, there was a calm rocking, a adventure with out the adrenalin. time is nothing within the space of duration. it is like when we say we "wait for the second to pass" we induce a paradox of time for time. Time as this is only ever a perversion, a disavowed reality, a induced fantasia.

the second i leave the boat, time enacts its return. i am dated, i count by the minute - 'give me a minute. ill be there in 5, in 10, in 20'. mardi gras i s a season of dating..not just fucking. we make our must see lists & hesitate at double bookings. i live life or does it live me? its an uneasy truce, or a make shift alliance where movement is the compression of duration.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Friday, January 26, 2007

The following is the questions as supplied by the SMH Quiz Page. The quiz will provide information on your level of fair dinkum-ness.

Just so you know Fair Dinkum is a term which generally refers to something being truthful or in good faith. The question is of course - how 'fair dinkum' is this quiz itself. Is it truly testing to see one's level of australian-ness or is it just testing your knowledge of facts relating to what some people consider australia to be? I'd take the latter to be true.

I think the best thing to do is to await the discovery of the Australian Gene - after which point we can begin a process of anal swabing the nation in order to identify among us who is truly...

er i mean a fair dinkum st(r)ailyan.

Are you fair dinkum?

1. Who was Australia's first Prime Minister?

2. Who was the chief architect of the Sydney Opera House?

3. What do we celebrate on January 26?

4. How many states are in Australia?

5. In what year did Australia become a federation?

6. Which Australian female surfer holds the most world surfing titles? cause surfing is as australian as cronulla is

7. Who is this man? (picture of Captian Cook Suplied)

8. Who wrote Waltzing Matilda?

9. What does ANZAC stand for?

10. Which highway connects Darwin and Adelaide?

11. What animal group do echidnas belong to?

12. Where is XXXX beer brewed?

13. What year did Australia win the Americas Cup?

14. What is the 23rd word of the National Anthem?counting is sooo australian

15. What was Sir Donald Bradman's career Test batting average?

16. Who is this woman?(picture of cathy freeman supplied) the token indigenous question

17. What is the main ingredient in Vegemite? because reading lables is what makes us ocker

18. How many stars are on the Australian flag?

19. Which Australian snake has the deadliest venom?

20. Which Australian has won the most gold medals at the Olympics?

Ohh.... so if thats what being ausie is, well thennnn....

are the following un-australian?

Scientific, Academic, Poetic, Artistic, Altruistic & other achievements that are not directly related to sport or politicians

Anything relating to migrant histories... or anything that might suggest that australians consider having chinese food once a week

Anything realating to indigenous Australia... because thats not 'our' australia.

Wine Drinking.

On an interesting side note - We may test an persons knowledge of what it is to be fair dinkum, the person may even pass with flying colours, but what do we do when that person - well versed in australian-isms decides to opt out & not bother to live in the australian idom?